i wanted to be half of a circle,
like the half-moon of your nails:
the night's draped in moonlight, this month's first full,
which falls over campus in veils.
books in a library stacked tight in rows
their colors all scattered to grey,
patches we sewed to make clothing rainbowed
until it grows threadbare and frayed.
nightly i held you, i guarded your worth
my watch marking minutes gone by --
this phone is my anchor: a weight, and a berth
as kind and capricious as sky.
the road home's half-lit, by streetlights and fear,
but our room is darker by far --
i love you, i want you -- you're precious, my dear
your sweetness, your silence, your scars.
XXXX-
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